


breathe air into my lungs (a chinese whisper fic)

by CynicalMistrust, djhedy, filteredred, jemejem, kahlee_116



Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: Chinese Whispers Writing Game, M/M, Merman!Neil, Minor Character Death, Multiple Writers, Ocean-Centric AU, Seaman!Andrew, Surfer!Andrew, Swimmer!Andrew
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-08
Updated: 2020-01-08
Packaged: 2021-02-27 04:07:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,273
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22170775
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CynicalMistrust/pseuds/CynicalMistrust, https://archiveofourown.org/users/djhedy/pseuds/djhedy, https://archiveofourown.org/users/filteredred/pseuds/filteredred, https://archiveofourown.org/users/jemejem/pseuds/jemejem, https://archiveofourown.org/users/kahlee_116/pseuds/kahlee_116
Summary: IMPORTANT PREMISE: This fic was written as a game of 'chinese whispers', where each writer could only read the segment that the author before them wrote so keep that in mind: when you see an asterisk, expect things to change wildly!! Similar to a telephone game but all in one fic, it resulted in...an amazing mess.Including Neil as a merman (the ONLY thing consistent about this fic - go figure), Andrew initially as an overdramatic surfer dude, the Foxes as surfers but also a swim team AND also as navy-men, pagan magic, kidnappings, large sea creatures and sharks, Riko being a bastard (as usual) and many people being thrown overboard from boats that didn't initially exist.
Relationships: Neil Josten/Andrew Minyard
Comments: 7
Kudos: 78





	breathe air into my lungs (a chinese whisper fic)

*

Andrew stared out over the horizon, the glittering waters and ocean greens and blues something from a piece of art. Yeah, he hated California with a burning passion, but none of his foster homes had ever been remotely close to the shore. 

He could stare out into the horizon for hours just to watch the sun sink towards its resting place, valiantly holding on until it let go, plummeting his world into darkness. He sat in white sands that nestled between his toes, leaning back on his elbows. Sand buried itself everywhere: In his hair, under his nails, in the creases of his underwear, and, of course, in his armbands. 

He hated California with a burning passion, but he had nothing against the ocean. When he’d found Aaron and moved in at the age of 17, he was taught to swim. Then to surf. Their mother wouldn’t even notice they were gone at the crack of dawn, only to return after dark. They’d never really gotten along, but when Andrew was riding a wave with Aaron, there was a subtle agreement between the two of them. 

The ocean was  _ liberating.  _ Almost—magical. Not that Andrew believed in magic. He gave up on it a long, long time ago.

Kevin once said he wanted to buy a boat and sail away and never come back. They’d buy an old Moriyama fisher, in a futile attempt to stop the business from consistently overfishing and poaching species that were endangered from the Californian coast. They caught sharks and dolphins without a care: Whatever was in their nets was theirs to reap the benefits from. Everyone in town hated them, but none more than Andrew and his lot. Especially with what they—specifically, Riko—did to Kevin.

Andrew would have definitely gone along with the idea of sailing way if it didn’t mean being stuck with Kevin on the small confines of a shitty boat for weeks on end. Besides, Kevin would never leave. He clung desperately onto the competitions and trophies from surfing competitions, hoping one day that he’d make it to worlds in Australia. His only motivation was proving himself: To his dead mother, to his abusive adoptive brother, to anyone who’d ever belittled him since he’d torn his Achilles when Riko shoved him off a cliff and had waves throw him against the rocks below

Kevin should have died. Instead, he insisted that the cove was haunted, and that his life was saved by some mystical entity. Maybe haunted wasn’t the right word. Overseen, under protection, whatever. Andrew called bullshit, especially seeing as Kevin had blacked out for most of his fall. 

But Andrew couldn’t deny that Palmetto cove truly was something else. It always had perfect waves, and was probably the only section of the Californian coast that hadn’t been torn down to build some kind of a stupid boardwalk. 

The sun slowly set, turning the clouds pink and orange, until it was dim enough that the water looked almost black. 

Kevin walked up from the shoreline: The waves had cooled to a gentle lapping at his ankles. It was low-tide. At midnight, the waves would almost reach the tree roots, and wipe all evidence of human activities from the sands, fresh for tomorrow. He shook out his black hair and wiped salt-water from his eyes. Andrew chucked his towel at him, crossing his arms. 

“What?” Kevin accused. “You only glare at me like that when I’ve done something wrong.”

“Nothing.” Andrew muttered. “Ask Nicky to give you a lift home. I’m gonna stay a while.”

Kevin was about to protest but Andrew threw him a sharp glare, effectively shutting him up. He retreated to where Andrew’s cousin and brother were rinsing off their boards. 

Andrew waited till they were gone. Then he stood, stripped off his t-shirt, keeping the armbands and his shorts on, and walked towards the water. 

It was always the perfect temperature in the cove: Refreshing, but not chilly. He waded till he was up to his knees, then his hips, then it was too deep for him to stand, so he swam out further. Some were terrified of the ocean at night, the black water, the eerie glow of the moon, but it was Andrew’s favourite place to be. He floated on his back, his head semi-submerged so that the void-like state of his head matched with the muffled ocean sounds. He was suspended between his mental and physical states. It was the only time he’d ever felt comfortable within his own skin. 

Under the water, he heard a splash. He opened his eyes: He’d floated towards the cove’s cliffs, where little rock mounds poked out of the water. They were smooth with water erosion, perfect perching spots to watch others surf and swim. There was a distinguishable wet hand-print on the side of the rock from whoever had just jumped into the water: Andrew knew it was recent, because it was low enough that the next wave washed it away. 

Andrew looked around but saw no one: If they’d gone underwater, they must have had to come up for air by now. 

Perhaps he was hearing things. He was getting tired. It was probably time to ring Nicky to come pick him up.

As he swam back to shore, another splash caught his attention: He turned around to see a pair of iridescent blue eyes lurking just above the water’s surface, their glow undeniably distinguishable in the darkness. Moonlight caught the light of fiery red curls that perched on top of the figure’s head. He blinked again and they were gone.

Definitely seeing things. 

He shoved his hair out of his eyes and made his way back to shore until he felt sand beneath his feet. He couldn’t stop himself from double-checking, then triple-checking. 

No turquoise-blue eyes. No ruby-red hair. 

Andrew rubbed his face, feeling the exhaustion permeate through his muscles as he scrounged for his phone. With one last glance towards Palmetto’s serene waters, he turned away and headed off to meet Nicky.

*

“I don’t understand how you can just go into the beach cove at night like that, Andrew. Alone, in those creepy waters!” Nicky cried, shivering. “Someday, you’re going to get kidnapped by the Loch Ness Monster or something.” 

Normally, Andrew would have corrected Nicky, said something like “The Loch Ness monster is a freshwater animal,” but tonight, he was too tired to even make a cutting remark. He just ignored Nicky, and kept trudging to their rickety little beach house. 

It’d been years since Andrew had swum for any sort of competition, but Kevin still insisted on little competitions among Andrew’s ragged little crew. It had taken years spent in the cove by himself to even consider the idea that maybe, just maybe, swimming had been a little more than a hobby. 

Beside him, Kevin was still bitching about losing to Aaron, but Andrew tuned him out like he always did when he started ranting. It should have been a normal day at the beach; a day spent swimming and eating and burning in the sun, but he just couldn’t get the strange splashing and  _ creature  _ out of his head. 

By the time Andrew collapsed in his cramped bunk bed under Aaron, thoughts of the strange mirage had faded, but it seemed his brain was determined not to forget the image (it wasn’t like he could forget anything anyway.) 

Andrew’s dreams were filled with drowning and swimming and floating and  _ breathing.  _

When he woke up, all he could taste was salt water, and his fingers looked a little pruny, despite it being hours since he’d been in the water. 

All he could hear was the soft lapping of waves against smoothed down rocks echoing. 

And all he could see was bright eyes and bright hair, glinting in the edge of his vision. 

*

“Come on, Andrew! It’ll be fun! Everybody else is going, even Aaron!” Nicky was shouting at eight o-fucking-clock in the morning. 

Sternly, Kevin said, “It’s not about the fun, it’s about the extra challenge. If the rain is in our eyes, it’s harder to see. It’ll be harder to come up to breathe properly, if the rain’s heavy enough.” 

“You’re such a killjoy, Kevin. No wonder you always look like you swallowed salt water. Don’t listen to him, Andrew. I’ll go to town and buy you a pint of cookie dough if you come.” 

Andrew sat up at that offer. He hated going into town, because it was so small that any new people were a subject of gossip. Ever since they’d found out he and Aaron were identical twins, weirdos had been pestering him or Aaron about coming to strange pagan-magic shit. Something about “twins enhancing the moon’s energy.” 

Most of the time, it was just Nicky going out to buy their groceries. Nicky had started a garden, too, for the fresh vegetables that the tiny mart didn’t have often. Still, Andrew still wanted the tiny ice cream tubs they sold for a couple bucks. It was especially entertaining to eat ice cream in front of Kevin, and watch him sputter. 

“Fine. I’ll go. You buy the ice cream tomorrow.” Andrew answered. He flopped back down in his bed as Nicky went to bring Aaron in to dress in their suits. He wouldn’t admit it to anyone else, but swimming in the rain did sound a little fun. Aaron would undoubtedly start sputtering in the water. Kevin, he didn’t know, but it was likely for Nicky to splash around a little, then get out and have a private “talk” with his boyfriend.

So that was how Andrew ended up barely treading water in a downpour, searching for Kevin or Aaron or Nicky. Earlier, the rain had been light, almost sprinkling, but now, it was pouring hard enough that Andrew couldn’t see a foot in front of him. 

Still, he could make his way back. Andrew’s stamina was good enough that he could just tread water until the storm passed. 

At least, that was what he thought until a  _ giant  _ wave came out of nowhere, and swallowed him up in one ear-splitting crash. Instantly, Andrew’s breath was knocked out of his chest, and his ears popped painfully. 

He tried fighting his way back to the surface, but he was already tired from an entire day of treading and diving. Andrew couldn’t breathe and he was calm and he couldn’t see the surface anymore.

Andrew felt himself sinking down, and that was when he realized he was  _ drowning _ . 

His vision was fuzzing at the edges and he couldn’t hear and his eyes felt like boiled eggs slowly being squished. Andrew was going to die and he wouldn’t even know if his family was safe. 

Bubbles were floating up from his dying body, precious air escaping to the surface. Andrew watched them rapidly swim up, until a dark mass appeared over him. His first thought was that the Grim Reaper had finally come to collect his life. 

Then blazing blue eyes stared into Andrew’s own, and vivid red hair floated around like a halo. It was a man. The man’s full lips mouthed the words,  _ Can I touch you?  _ And when Andrew registered the words, he was nodding with the last of his strength. 

Immediately, hands were reaching around his back, and light was rapidly increasing. Andrew and the strange man reached the surface, and he heaved a shaky breath. 

“Stay on the shore, Andrew.” The man said. 

Distantly, Andrew wondered how the man knew his name, but all his thoughts were shattered when rocks crunched from far away and Kevin yelled a panicked “Andrew!” 

The man’s head snapped up, and before Andrew knew it, he was slipping back in the water, like he’d never existed at all. 

Like some sort of pipe dream. 

*

When Andrew woke up, he headed back down to the spot where the man had left him when Kevin came screaming for Andrew. He had to know more. 

Shortly after he got there, the man with the icy blue eyes and the fiery red hair rose his head out of the water. 

“You’re alright,” the man said. Andrew was mostly just wondering how he had just showed up in the middle of the ocean like that, unless… 

Well. There always had been stories that the locals told, stories of…. 

But no. It was impossible. 

Andrew put it out of his mind for the moment and just focused on the man who had saved his life yesterday. His eyes were such a piercing blue that Andrew couldn’t look away.  _ Focus. _ He had questions. He couldn’t be distracted by captivating eyes. 

“Who are you?” Question one. The man bit his lip before answering. 

“My name is Neil.” Either he didn’t say or hear his name very often, or that wasn’t it. Interesting. The man—Neil—sighed. 

“You clearly have questions.”  _ No shit.. _ “Let’s go into the cave down by the cliffs so we can talk. Properly,” Neil suggested. Andrew agreed, and as they were headed down to the cliff, Neil didn’t ever come out of the water, opting to swim there.  _ Because he doesn’t have legs,  _ a nagging voice in Andrew’s head whispered. Andrew did as he usually did, and simply ignored the little voice, pushing it out of his head as he had with everything else, and went with Neil.

When they got to the cave, Andrew saw that it was half underwater, and half above. Perfect for talking to a—nope. Not gonna think about it. Andrew had a hard enough time believing in the town’s stupid pagan twin beliefs, there was no way that  _ this,  _ that  _ he _ could actually be real. Magic had forsaken him his whole life, and it wasn’t any use to depend on it. It always failed in the end. 

Neil sat in the shallows of the cave, and Andrew could easily see that he did, indeed, have a tail as opposed to legs. Well. May as well accept it now. There was never a point to living in denial, in a lie. So he had been saved by a mermaid. Merman. Whatever. Andrew didn’t actually care that much. He just wanted to know more. 

Andrew tried not to stare at his wet shirt clinging to his body where his shoulders were above the water, but it was difficult. He had nice shoulders. Questions. Right. 

“How do you know my name?” Andrew asked, with the slightest bit of inflection added to his tone.

Neil flushed. “I’ve been hanging around here for a while, and I heard Kevin complaining about how you never do anything. Which, he has ridiculously high expectations for everyone, so it’s no wonder that you don’t listen to him,” Neil said with a snort at the end. 

“You say that as if you know him,” Andrew said, an eyebrow raised. Neil tensed almost imperceptibly, his expression becoming a little more guarded. 

“It doesn’t matter,” Neil said. 

“I don’t believe that for a second.” Andrew had taught himself how to tell when someone was lying. Neil was. Neil was likely about to change the subject, but made a note of his connection to Kevin. 

“So, what do you want from me?” Neil asked. Subject change, ding ding ding. “I’m a merman, I saved your life. What do you want to keep quiet that you saw me? Scales?”

“What. No. I want nothing. I’ll keep your secret.” Andrew paused, reading Neil’s surprised expression. “If you tell me about yourself. Mermaid biology, how you live. All that stuff. Ask me a question for each question I ask you. No lying.” Neil looked skeptical, like he didn’t know whether to trust Andrew. But he really had no other choice. And he would be asking Andrew questions in return.

“Fine. Where do we start?” Neil didn’t really seem eager to tell Andrew his whole life story, but if he had to, he would. “Question away.”

Andrew didn’t know much about mermaids, except what he had heard from fairy tales and stories. He decided to go out on a limb.

“Can you turn human when you go on land?” Andrew really didn’t know how mermaids worked, he kinda wanted to find out. 

“I can actually, but it’s just me, since I’m half human. Only my mom was full mer. I don’t actually know any other mers, other than ones me and her have run into during our… travels.” Neil paused before he asked his question. “Why were you out at sea in the middle of the storm?”

Andrew gave a soft laugh along with an eye-roll. “You said it yourself. Kevin has ridiculously high expectations for everyone. Apparently, including that I be able to swim in the middle of a storm, despite not even swimming competitively anymore. How do you know Kevin?” Andrew had a deal with Kevin. Neil was not going to get in the way of that. Nobody was.

Neil sighed as he knew that was going to be Andrew’s next question. “We were together, in the Nest. I was there for less time than him, since my mom broke me out, but we were there together. With Riko. How do  _ you _ know Kevin?” His words were sharp as he turned the question back on Andrew. 

“He found us after he left the Ravens and their fanatical swimming ideals. He came to our team—not sure why, seeing as we’re the worst in the league—and he and I made a deal. Is Riko after you as well?”

“Undoubtedly.” 

“Game’s over then. I can protect you, if you’d like. From Riko,” Andrew clarified that last bit after seeing Neil’s confused face. But that wasn’t what Neil was confused about.

“Why? I’m nothing. I’m not important. There’s nothing you could want from me.” Neil stopped as it hit him. He looked at Andrew warily. “What do you want from me?” 

“Exist. Be there for Kevin. You know him, how he gets obsessed with swimming. Be a distraction from me. He wants me to put in effort to something I don’t care about, and I’m honestly kind of sick of it. So be there instead of me.” Neil looked hesitant, but he agreed. As they headed back to the team’s building, Neil swam into the shallows so his legs could shift back. Andrew was only mildly surprised when he saw that Neil had swim trunks on. 

*

Andrew waited until Neil had caught up, running his eyes from Neil’s soaked legs, blinking away the image of fins, up to his dripping wet hair. He started walking away. “Cold?” Andrew asked, not looking at him.

They were walking back up the beach, Andrew’s shoes sinking again and again into soft sand.

“No,” said Neil. “I don’t really… I guess merpeople don’t really get cold like you do.”

“Huh.” Andrew kept his gaze on his shoes as they finally reached concrete, the hard <i> _ pat pat</i> _ drowning out his thoughts. When they got to the main entrance he paused, patting his pockets for cigarettes. 

He lit one and blew the smoke away from Neil. If he let himself his mind would be reeling with questions. He wondered how much Kevin remembered about Neil. He shook his head slightly, ignoring the way Neil was glancing anxiously at him, and watched smoke curl out of his mouth and into the air.

“What now?” asked Neil.

Finally. Andrew turned to look at him. In the few minutes it had taken to walk from the water to the building Neil had dried almost entirely.  _ Huh _ . Now his red hair glimmered under hot sunlight, his torso was entirely dry, and hard, and his eyes were a steady unflinching gaze meeting his own.

Andrew looked away again. “Now we go talk to coach.”

*

“Who’s this?” Wymack didn’t even look up from where he was digging through notes on the counter.

Andrew sighed from the effort of putting together sentences in his head. Eventually he landed on, 

“Neil.” Neil glanced at him, panic on his face which burned away the second Wymack rose his head.

“Yeah? Who’s Neil?”

“I’m a friend of Kevin’s,” Neil said, before Andrew could reply. Neil was leaning against the doorway, a step back from Andrew, as though he was still unsure what he was doing here.

“Right,” said Wymack, flicking his gaze to Andrew.

“He’s gonna practise with you for a while,” said Andrew.

Wymack didn’t reply immediately. Eventually he shifted his body around and leaned back against his desk. “Andrew,” he started.

“Don’t make this complicated,” Andrew said, and there was an edge to his voice that grated on his nerves. He clenched his teeth and when he spoke again it came out bored. “He’s visiting Kevin, he used to swim with the Ravens…”

“Really?” Wymack raised an eyebrow at Neil. “Neil, did you say?”

“I never made it to a competition,” Neil said. “I just practised with them growing up.”

“He’s good,” said Andrew.

Wymack sighed. “Andrew.” he started again, and stopped abruptly. Throwing his hands in the air he said, “As if asking you to explain has ever worked in the past. If Kevin says it’s ok, he can practise with us. To be honest, we could do with a change in routine.” He flicked his hands at them in dismissal. 

“Well? He’s not sleeping here, take him to your room.” Andrew turned away, relieved that was over.

Once they were down the hall Neil said, “Thanks for not telling him.”

Andrew scuffed his foot on the floor, turning the corner. “Why would I want him to know some runt stranger saved my life?”

He could physically feel Neil rolling his eyes and felt a smirk pull at his lips. “I meant about me being a merman. And you’re literally shorter than me.”

Andrew didn’t dignify this with a response, but threw open the double doors dramatically. It was very satisfying.

Satisfaction only lingered for a second, his eyes following Neil as he walked into the room.

The athlete’s swimming pool was enormous, surrounded by equipment and  _ Do not run _ signs. The smell of chlorine hit his nostrils and Andrew couldn’t help the deep breath he took in, just for one second, letting  _ familiar  _ float into his lungs. The pool was only open to the public during certain hours so it was completely empty as Neil scanned it from top to bottom.

Andrew squeezed the pack of cigarettes in his pocket, tried to tear his gaze away from Neil’s frowning expression. He almost snapped, “What is it?”

Neil turned and blinked at him, almost like he hadn’t heard him. “Sorry?”

Andrew walked to the edge of the pool where Neil was standing. “I literally found you in the ocean, what’s so amazing about a swimming pool?”

Neil shrugged but it wasn’t very convincing. “It’s not the water,” he started, slow and considering, “I just… I haven’t swum with anyone else for a while.” He was quiet, eyes cast downwards, and it gave Andrew a chance to study the scar on his left cheek.

“Later,” Andrew said, and didn’t mean to let it sound like a promise, in fact hadn’t meant to say it at all. He’d told Kevin he would never swim here again. He’d keep his promise to protect him from Riko, and he’d give him Neil, but he’d promised  _ himself _ –

“What is it?”

Andrew realised he was staring into the water, endless blue almost hurling back at him like a violent shock. Neil had been talking. He shook his head and looked up. “What?”

Neil was smirking and it made Andrew want to throw things. “You literally almost died in the ocean, it’s kind of hard to believe you got here on a swimming scholarship.”

Andrew frowned, realising Neil was joking a second late. “Yeah well,” he started. Neil was still smiling at him. Andrew drew his eyebrows closer together. “You…”

Neil’s smile blew into a full-grown grin. “Let me know when you’ve got a comeback sorted.” He started walking away and it was all Andrew could do not to take his own shoe off and throw it at the asshole’s head. Neil threw over his shoulder, “So? Where am I sleeping?”

“ _ Do  _ you sleep?” Andrew snapped, a little loud as he refused to move fast to catch up.

Neil halted by the door and rolled his eyes. “ _ Yes _ ,” he started, but he was abruptly cut off as Dan threw herself into the room, eyes darting round wildly.

Her eyes settled on Andrew. “Have you seen Aaron?”

Andrew tensed. He blinked and felt dread settle, almost comfortable, almost like  _ this _ , rather than talking to Neil, was what his life was supposed to be. “What?” he managed, fingers curling and uncurling by his side.

Dan flicked a glance at Neil and looked back at Andrew. “We can’t find him.”

*

“What do you mean you can’t find him?” Andrew asked, low. He felt his shoulders bunch up and willed himself to calm down. He was just stressed from the near drowning and being rescued by a fish man.

Dan’s lips thinned. “He’s not in his room and no one can get a hold of him. Last anyone saw of him he was looking for you at the cove.”

Neil shot Andrew a startled look, of which Andrew ignored. If Aaron had tried to go after Andrew... he didn’t want to finish that thought. Andrew was a stronger swimmer than his brother, one of the strongest swimmers on the team, but he’d still been dragged under the salty ocean waves by the current he got caught up in. He had Neil to drag him out, but Neil had a fin and an affinity for swimming in rough water. Aaron had no such help.

“Andrew, wait!”

Andrew ignored Dan’s call behind him as he took off from his room. He sped past Palmetto’s swimming pool, his conversation with Neil forgotten, nothing in his mind but the thought of his brother trying to fight the harsh ocean current. Dan and Neil must not have followed him, the only sound was the rough  _ slap, slap _ of his feet against cement and his ragged breaths in his ears.

_ Goddamnit, Aaron, _ Andrew thought.  _ Why couldn’t you stay out of it? _

The energy that had been sapped out of Andrew from before was back, or at least adrenaline had made up for it. The wind whipped across his face in icy slashes, and his shoes still sloshed with too much water despite being dragged out of the sea almost an hour ago. He was shivering and cold, but he couldn’t think about any of it until he found his missing brother.

It was too dark to see properly, and the only thing lighting his way was the stars and moon above him, the light from the fluorescents far behind him as he took off toward the cove. It was no longer storming, at least. The rain had reduced to a drizzle and the wind was calmer than before. He didn’t slow until his feet met coarse gravel and he had to stop to heave a breath of salty air. He only stayed still for a moment.

“ _ Aaron, _ ” Andrew shouted out across the dark water. ” _ Aaron! _ ”

Andrew had nearly screamed himself hoarse when he heard footsteps behind him. Twisting around, he expected to see his brother approaching him. Instead it was Neil, worried and tugging on Andrew’s shirt to get back from the sea. Andrew shoved him away and turned back to the water and cupped his hands around his mouth to yell again when he felt a hard yank on the collar of his shirt.

Neil was as slippery as a fish. He dodged Andrew’s errant fist with ease and was five paces away before Andrew could throw another one. Andrew sucked in a long breath to calm himself down.  _ This isn’t helpful. _

When Andrew had uncurled his fingers enough that they were no longer fists, Neil was at his side again, herding him away from the water. “You can’t go back out there. You almost drowned –”

“I don’t care. I’m going to find Aaron,” Andrew said. He felt the low swoop of panic in his stomach, different from the panic when he himself was the one who almost drowned, when the water flooded into his mouth and he didn’t know up from down and he was sinking, sinking, sinking.

“It’s too dark,” Neil reasoned. He had his hands up like he was warding off a wild animal, not quite touching. “If he’s out there, you won’t find him until morning.”

Andrew’s eyes flicked to Neil’s. They were extraordinarily blue, almost supernatural in the low light. The long line of the scar cutting across his pointed face was pale against his tanned skin. Neil wasn’t human, and looking at him made that obvious. “You do it.” It took a moment for Andrew’s words to register, and when they did Neil’s eyes went wide. “You can swim better than I can, you go out and look for him.”

“I – I can’t.” Neil backed away, letting his hands drop to his sides. He wouldn’t look Andrew in the eye, and the easy confidence he had early was long gone.

Andrew shoved past him. “Then get out of my way and do not try to stop me again.”

Andrew started off down the beach, keeping close to the water lapping at his feet but not letting it get an inch over his boots. He knew he couldn’t swim out like this, especially when exhaustion was already dogging his steps. But he kept his eyes peeled for any movement aside from the water, any sign that Aaron wasn’t currently at the bottom of the ocean.

After about five minutes, Andrew began to notice a black shape out on the horizon, coming closer and closer to shore. It was far too big to be a human, and after a few moments of squinting, Andrew realized that it was a boat about hundred feet off from shore. He couldn’t see who was in it, or if his brother was one of them, but the sight of any kind of boat out on the water in the dead of night was enough to make him wary.

_ The hell.. _ . Andrew watched the boat with wary eyes when he heard Neil’s footsteps behind him again.

“I told you to leave me alone,” Andrew began, but Neil’s expression made him stop short. His eyes were wide with alarm and he kept shooting anxious looks towards the boat. His hands made cutting gestures to stay quiet and back away from the water.

“We have to go,” Neil said, his voice pitched low despite there being no one around to hear them. When Andrew didn’t budge, Neil’s frantic gestures grew even more desperate. “Andrew, we seriously have to go.”

“Who are they?” Andrew asked instead. He didn’t plan on leaving until he got a few answers.

Neil’s mouth pulled and he sneaked another look at the boat. It was getting closer, and Andrew could finally see the black hull and red trim, the blood-red lettering on the side that read  _ The Raven _ . Andrew cursed internally.

“Riko Moriyama.” 

*

As the ship got closer to the shore, Neil told Andrew to follow him behind a big rock to hide. The moon was still out and they were practically invisible to Riko on the boat. Neil turned his head to peek at the ocean, lifting his finger to his lips as he did so to silently keep Andrew quiet. The figure on the boat was approaching them, holding something in his hands that resembled a long spyglass.

“Shit,” Neil cursed and pulled his head back so quickly his neck hurt.

Andrew looked at him with furrowed brows, waiting for Neil to explain what he’d just seen. Neil leaned his head back on the mossy, wet rock and let out a strained breath. His heart had started beating out of his chest.

“He’s going to see us,” Neil whispered to him. “He’s got a spyglass.”

Andrew shook his head, immediately whirling his head around to see for himself. Neil saw Andrew dig his fingers into the harsh surface of the rock.

“And Aaron?” Andrew said, still not looking away from the majestic ship that was nearing them. Its black sail swayed in the cool night. “Is he with them?”

“I don’t know,” Neil said quietly. His hand reached forward to pull Andrew behind the rock so Riko wouldn’t spot them, but he stopped an inch from Andrew’s arm.  _ No touching. _ “We need to go.”

Andrew just shook his head again, leaning out further from their hiding place in the cove. The waves of the ocean bobbed up and down and Neil closed his eyes. There was a voice in his head that whispered, spoke, and then shouted.

“Andrew,” Neil said softly over the noise. “I can hear him.”

Neil’s blue eyes were shut firmly and he gripped the wet sand under him with both of his fists. Andrew watched him with an open mouth, moving closer to Neil.

“Tell me what he’s saying,” Andrew said with a cold stare.

_ What happened to the other one?! _ someone yelled in his head. Neil started seeing a hazy cloud of the ship’s deck and one after another the Ravens appeared in blurry figures. Riko was pacing the wooden planks back and forth in a rush, the spyglass held tightly in his right hand.

“Riko’s angry,” Neil told him. He buried his fingers in the sand deeper and wrinkled his eyebrows as the colors of the vision were starting to fade. “He wants to know what happened to the other one.”

_ I wanted both of them! _ Riko screamed and threw the spyglass on one of the other ravens, hitting their cheekbone and landing on the deck with a hard thud. 

Andrew shifted suddenly behind the rock, having heard the noise on the ship from where he was hiding. He looked back to Neil, whose eyes were closed in concentration. Neil had started sweating and swallowed, mumbling a string of something incoherent. 

“What are they saying?” Andrew asked Neil, but he wasn’t answering.

_ You have to find him _ , Riko said to the Ravens as he looked out to the shore with his hands gripping the railing on the deck.  _ Now. Or else you know what I’ll do. _

Andrew put his hand on Neil’s shoulder and shook him, trying to wake him up. The ship was coming closer, the lettering on the side of it an eerie warning.  _ The Raven. _

_ I want Andrew Minyard _ , Riko said. He’d walked over to the Ravens again, threatening one of them with a small knife over their face. They nodded up and down, nervously holding their trembling hands still together.  _ Now. I want him now _ .

As Riko stroked the knife down the side of their face and a small stream of blood dripped out, Neil’s eyes flew open and he was back behind the rock. Andrew was by his side, his hand still on Neil’s shoulder. There was a shimmering light emerging from Neil’s blue eyes.

“They want you,” Neil said through his heavy breathing. “Aaron is already on the ship with them.”

Andrew’s hair was still wet from the near drowning, waterdrops travelling down his face. At the mention of Aaron’s name the anger in his eyes was evident.

“I’ll kill them,” Andrew threatened and shifted to get up from behind the rock, but Neil pulled his shirt to get him to stay hidden.

“We’re outnumbered,” Neil warned him. “We have to run.”

“And leave Aaron?” Andrew hissed, the sound of his voice louder than he’d expected it to be. “No. Never.”

Neil tilted his head back against the rock again and sighed. The Ravens were coming and they couldn’t do anything. The ship broke the waves, splashing on the surface of the ocean, coming closer and closer-

“Neil,” Andrew said. “Hide in the water before it’s too late. I’ll stay here and let them take me, and you’ll come back with the others.”

“Are you crazy?” Neil said and shook his head violently. “They’ll kill you. It’s their crazy pagan magic, it’s how they can control the seas. I can’t-”

“Yes, you can,” Andrew insisted. He’d started talking faster, the threat of the ship looming just a few feet away. “If you don’t they’ll get us both. You have to. You’re the best swimmer on the team, Neil.”

Neil was about to protest again, but Andrew grabbed his neck and pulled their foreheads together. He felt the cold, wet tips of Andrew’s hair against his skin.

“Come with me,” Neil pleaded. “Please.”

Andrew stayed quiet for a second, inching even closer to Neil as if he was thinking it over, but said:

“No. I have to go find my brother.”

Andrew let go of Neil’s neck and pulled away, leaving only a faint ghost touch lingering there. He walked out to the shore. The footsteps he left in the sand filled with water as Andrew got closer to the waves, waiting for the ship in front of him.

Neil touched the scar running across his face. If the Ravens hurt Andrew he’d never forgive himself.

He glanced at the ship before sneaking out from behind the rock, hurrying to the water away from where Andrew was standing. A light from the ship shone on Andrew and Neil dove into the water as deep as he could. 

The cold water surrounded his body and Neil felt the magic swirl around him. Neil’s fins were emerging, the darkness around him lit up by his glowing eyes. The scales travelled down his legs and Neil swam deeper into the ocean. There was only one thing on his mind.

_ Andrew. _

*

A long time ago when Neil was too young to remember all of it, his father tried to drown him. Not particularly maliciously, because at that point they still had some degree of attachment or whatever passed for affection towards him.

His mother had shaken and pulled him closer, the only act of resistance she could. Her mouth opened aimlessly, but no sound came out. Neil thinks he can remember that, but time has worn down the memory, and maybe it never happened. 

According to the laws of three, as he learned later, a human being can only survive; three minutes without oxygen, three hours without shelter, three days without water. Only one of those rules were relevant when the water filled up his lungs and he choked desperately, trying to breathe. 

The drowning is real, but what he saw as he tried to claw out breathes, was more figments of a nightmare.  _ Lack of air at birth creates long lasting effects on children _ , Andrew had finally said after he told them the first part. Whether it was good or not, he didn’t quite know at this point.

He remembers his mother’s eyes, dark and dilated, staring at him, doing nothing but staring. He remembers wailing, a cry being torn from his lungs and ultimately suffocated by the water. He remembers his father, unmoving, un-needing to move because his mother was shaking and pale and in no state to stop him. 

And then it all went black. Before his vision started dimming, sometimes he thinks that he saw his mother, break out of her thrall and fight to pull him away from his father. It probably didn’t happen though. 

When he woke up again, shoulders bandaged up and hands so thoroughly packaged he couldn’t see the newly grown claws encased inside, his mother wasn’t there. A man with dark hair was standing there. 

He had a pale face and thin cheekbones, but Neil remembers the way he stood, more than he remembers anything else. He stood like an aristocrat, like the weight of generations was pressed down onto his suit clad shoulders, and he was upholding it with every movement. 

“ _ You’re awake, _ ” the man observed detachedly, the way a man who has gardens but doesn’t garden observes the fact that his flowers are growing well enough. 

Maybe that should’ve been the first sign if he’d missed all of the previous.

Neil had tried to speak, but all that came out was a rasp. He raised his hand and pressed it to his throat, before running it against his neck. There were gills there now. His eyes rolled to the back of his head and he blacked out again. 

  
  


*

  
  


That was the first time he had shifted, and the one that lasted the longest. He shifts again now, body slipping beneath the waves, movements less fluid than he would’ve liked. Time had turned shifting from an instinctual reaction of fear and panic to a smooth transition. But he was always faster when he was scared. 

He closes his eyes and  _ listens.  _ The sea is in pain, Riko Moriyama is not the affably tolerated brother, he is an intruder, and he is hurting its domain. The sea might harbour some allowance for the Moriyama heir, but only because of a painstakingly established respect from their side. 

Riko has none of that respect and has abused its waters for too long. 

_ Hold onto that pain,  _ he tells the sea. He opens his eyes again. 

Riko has Andrew now. The ship will stay there long enough for him to gloat. If Neil tries to execute any kind of rescue, it won’t end well. Bu  _ Neil _ doesn’t need to execute a rescue. Neil was one person, but now he is part of many. He takes a breathe and  _ breathes _ .

*

_ The Hatfords were not gifted or carrying non-human blood in any way. But they were sailors, and it takes a particular brand of bloodline to carry that ability down through generations. His mother never took to it, but he knows that she could’ve.  _

_ He knows it in the way she would look up at the stars, fast, glancing, never long enough to drink in its glimmering expanse, but as a necessity, yet long enough to see a path cut through the waters. _

*

  
  


The water opens up in his mind, and the path is clear, drawn by a steady hand in thick clear strokes. 

_ Thank you,  _ he tries to tell the sea. 

It hums, a reply that brushes over him like a warm embrace. The sea is still in pain, but now the closest thing to its beloved sailors has returned. 

A sharp spike of fear pricks his heart. He hears his mother's voice in his head all of a sudden. Her pained cry of “ _ Stop it, Abram _ ”, when he made the puddles swirl up in spirals, her bruising hands clenched in his shoulders when she sees the water opening up at his touch. Mary Hatford might have married a human, but she never forgave the way he treated her half-human son. She was Nathan’s prize, his spoils from war and debts, but Nathaniel was his pawn. His mer-spawn.

But Neil is mother-less now, and out of his father’s reach. 

The sharp spike of fear recedes. 

_ Andrew,  _ he thinks instead. 

And then the water cuts itself open. 

He opens his mind, and  _ listens.  _ On board the ship, a Raven cries out in alarm. They see the water cut open and rising, its pain finally surfacing in violence, cold and brutal. Savage and edged like a knife finally slashing down, a knife held by an unfailing hand. The sea has been silenced for too long. 

Riko is there, and he’s screaming, but Neil can’t  _ hear  _ him, amidst the fear and confusion that fills the ship. It feels like vengeance, triumph, divided, separate and glorious for all of the five seconds that he loses himself in the sea’s euphoria, unleashed and set loose at last.

_ Andrew _ , he tells the sea, holding onto their name like a lifeline, because maybe it is. Maybe he will become like the sea if he is part of it too long. 

_ Don’t drown him. Or the man who looks like him. _

He pauses, and the sea calls out a reply, a shrill inhuman cry that rattles through his bones.

*

Shivers wrack Aaron’s body, and he subtly leans into the man behind him for warmth. He needs to piss, badly, and fears it will be bloody. His brother stiffens instinctively, releases a long slow breath, then allows his body to relax. 

This sort of contact is not a normal occurrence; after unspeakable childhood horrors that Aaron only knows hints of, no one touches Andrew except Neil, and that trust was mutual and tenuous and careful, so careful, and above all, consensual. How such broken creatures found each other and became whole was a mystery for the ages, but just now, Aaron needs warmth and solidity, and the contact is permitted. 

That morning under the faint pink smudges of predawn the brothers trudged through sand and brackish shallows to assess a tiny cove. The ocean was dying, and they would bear witness and fight to heal it with the rest of Neil’s small makeshift team. Aaron was a man of facts and science, and while he couldn’t account for Neil’s magical nature, his own hazel eyes had seen the man shape shift into a fearsome gilled sea creature, he could sense his innate connection to the ocean, and he believed him that the Moriyama family was somehow stealing some vital resource and killing the very ocean itself. 

“Ugh, that smell!” Aaron said, pulling his shirt over his nose while bending close to snap pictures of a decaying sea turtle. “I think everything is dead on this stretch. Even the water, I mean, if water can be dead. The color is wrong. Look at that foam! Did you notice there aren’t any birds? How are the Moriyamas getting away with—“

Andrew, attention divided by half listening to his twin  _ (why must people speak every thought that crosses their mind?) _ and studying slimy black-green clumps of seagrass surrounded by thick yellowed foam, deftly slid a throwing knife from his armband, hairs raised on the back of his neck as the total silence settled over him, thick and wrong. 

Aaron struggled furiously against the grip of a much larger man whose hands clamped firmly around his waist and mouth, meeting Andrew’s unblinking gaze as he lifted his foot and stomped on the man’s instep and wrenched away. The man snarled and swore in French and punched him in the back so hard he fell retching to his knees. 

Andrew threw true, his knife sinking deep into the man’s throat as he reached into the black band for another, but he was outnumbered, marking four more men with knives and fists before he was subdued. The dead man was left to be claimed by the evening tides as Aaron and Andrew were dragged through sand and fetid shallows to a hidden row boat and soon hustled onboard a large ship and dumped at a smirking Captain Riko’s feet like big trophy game downed in a rigged hunt. 

Now they sat cold and wet in near darkness below decks of the anchored vessel, thick cabled rope tying them back to back. Had Andrew been conscious for the tying, he would have subtly tensed up, inflating his muscles like a pony outsmarting a saddle, but he wasn’t, having been kicked in the head when he lobbed a bloody ball of spit in Riko’s face, and the knots were tied well and tight. 

“S-s-so c-c-c-cold,” Aaron says. “C-can’t feel my fingers. Andrew, you h-have to s-stay awake. Y-you probably have a concussion.”

“Hurts like hell, doc,” Andrew grits out. “I’m awake; no dream could feel this miserable. I have sand in places that would make a sailor blush.”

“It’s ok if y-you tell him, you know,” Aaron says. “Riko only wants y-you. He can’t tell us apart. He’ll keep beating us if we don’t tell. You could save yourself a lot of pain. It’s not like Neil can s-save both of us.”

“Oh, Neil. As unpredictable as he is unreal,” Andrew drawls, carefully probing his tongue around his mouth and spitting out more blood. “He is a friend to the sea and its creatures; he will not come alone.”

*

Riko could not, in fact, tell the twins apart. His black-garbed henchmen had laughed at the gnarled wood staff Aaron carried and tossed it and his camera into the sea, dragged off Andrew’s signature arm bands and divvied up the remaining knives, and now who was who of the identical looking men was anyone’s guess. Instead of praise, a hot meal and the gold coins they’d hoped for when they dumped the Minyard twins on  _ The Raven’s  _ deck, Riko had kicked and screamed at his men and threw one overboard where a large, finned creature grabbed his leg and pulled him under, the unnaturally calm sea roiling red for several moments before turning back to an inky navy tipped with sickly yellow foam. 

He doesn’t know which man is Andrew — the brother who holds the merman’s heart — and his anger burns hotter at being made to look a fool. 

“Do you have the blood?” he asks his newly promoted first mate, sparing little more than passing annoyance at the inconvenience of having to replace Jean Moreau, now rotting on the shore; the Minyard twins would pay dearly for that offense. 

“Yes, sir, Captain Moriyama, sir,” the man simpers, producing a rust-stained cloth. 

“That’s not very bloody,” Riko sneers, “are you sure it’s from both of them? Neil only cares about one Minyard enough to pay with his own blood, and I can no longer continue my work effectively without creating a shape shifting creature of my own. The ocean has turned against me!”

The first mate gapes back at him. “What? Sir? Uh, yes, sir, Riko Captain, uh, sir! I collected blood from both of their wounds with this cloth, sir!”

“Very well. Throw it in the water.”

The first mate bows and scurries to the port side and flings the bloody cloth into the sea. Nothing happens. Riko frowns and stares at the floating fabric, and the first mate inches away from the side of the vessel. Riko screams in frustration at the sheer incompetence, raises a fist to strike the man, then falls to his knees as the ship timbers creak and moan and the sea begins to froth and rumble and raise and roar, and a swath of sandy dry land appears. 

A small flock of ravens caw and screech as they fly in erratic circles above  _ The Raven, _ a colossal  _ CRACK _ rends the air, and Riko faintly wonders if the whole world or just his ship are breaking in two.

  
  


*

Andrew grunted as the ship rocked and slammed him into the hull. "What the fuck?" He gritted his teeth against the brief, agonizing pain that fractured his vision, shaking his head to focus. He could, and likely would, pass out later, but that could wait until they were safe or dead. 

Aaron cursed behind him as the ship rocked again, violently. A broom flipped end over end as the ship rolled and tilted as if on the high seas, narrowly missing both their heads as it landed against the hull. The opened rigging knife wasn't so kind, though Andrew's boot at least stopped it before it stabbed either of them. 

The ship stopped moving, held at the unnatural angle. 

"Can you see anything?" Andrew asked, working the knife closer with his foot so he could grab onto it. 

"Just water and s-sand." 

_ Sand?  _ Andrew glanced back, but he wasn't close enough to the porthole to see anything. Whatever it was, it was a chance to escape. 

He got the knife positioned, listening to the sound of yelling and people running above deck. It took a few minutes to cut the ropes, and he grunted in relief when they finally snapped apart. 

He turned and cut Aaron free, pushing him up and towards the stairs. He paused long enough to glance out the porthole. 

A massive tentacle swung past before disappearing beneath the waves. A moment later, a large fish-like creature leapt out of the water, landing as a human on the sandy island. Or something close to human. 

The red hair and fierce blue eyes were the same, but Neil's pale skin had a translucent hue, and his fingers were webbed. "Well?" Neil shouted. "What now, you pathetic excuse for a human?" 

Andrew tsk'ed quietly and pushed away from the sight of Neil with a deathwish, squinting against his pounding headache as he hurried after Aaron. 

The idiot better have a plan, or they'd all be dead shortly. 

*

Neil scanned the two half decks of the broken ship with a soft snarl. He could smell Moriyama all over the damn thing, but the stench of Andrew's blood in the water made him sick. Sicker than the dying waters around them. 

The only thing that kept him from sinking the entire vessel was the fact the blood was fresh enough he was sure Andrew was still alive. 

Movement at the handrail caught his attention and he narrowed his eyes. 

Riko. 

"You insolent little - What have you done to my ship?!" 

Neil shrugged, looking over the pieces now stranded on the tiny island. "Not really much of a ship anymore, is it? Oops." He glanced to the ocean waters, where the sharks and other creatures he'd called to were fighting through the few protecting what was left of Riko's ship. 

He looked back at Riko. "Where's Andrew?”

Riko sneered. “Dying.”

“No, I’m not,” Andrew said, hoisting himself up at the other end of the deck. He swayed a bit on his feet and grabbed the railing.

“Andrew,” Neil breathed, taking a step forward. He froze when Riko pulled out a gun and trained it on Andrew and his twin. “No!”

Riko’s smile widened until it was practically manic. “Now that I have your attention,” he said, glancing at the twins before eyeing Neil with a look that promised worse than death, “you’re going to do exactly as I say.”

Neil snarled, catching Andrew’s gaze as he stepped towards the ship. The sand shifted beneath him, dipping and parting so a tiny rivulet of water rushed in over his feet. 

The sharks were still fighting off Riko’s last defender. Further out, there was another ship, just coming into view. 

“And what do you want me to do, you spineless halfwit?” Neil asked, sinking his foot deeper into the water. 

There was a storm behind the other ship, moving fast. Angry clouds full of dying water absorbed from the sea. They’d both likely reach the little island at the same time. 

“You’re going to give me back control over the seas," Riko said, steadying his aim on Aaron. 

Neil raised an eyebrow, sure Riko didn't even know which twin he was aiming at. Were all humans so incompetent at identifying their own kind? It was on the tip of his tongue to tell Riko to go fuck himself, but the incoming ship was still too far away. It was close enough he could sense it had what he needed, though. 

The last ingredients that could be mixed with his blood and begin the healing of the seas. 

"And how am I supposed to do that?" he asked instead. He needed to keep Riko distracted. He inched his foot deeper into the water. The giant octopus was surly and ill-tempered even on a good day, and with the storm approaching, he was still surprised he'd even gotten the bastard to help, but he needed Wymack to stick around a bit longer. 

Riko sneered. "You figure it out. Or your little lover sleeps with the fish tonight." 

"If we were lovers, I’d already be with the fish," Andrew said, his voice nearly lost as the wind picked up around them. 

At least he was able to make jokes, even if neither twin looked to be doing well. Neil didn't like the way Andrew gripped the railing like it was the only thing keeping him steady. 

Neil lifted his hands in what he hoped was really a human gesture of surrender and took another step forward so his feet were covered to his ankles. The water was slimy and stagnant against his skin, but it could still carry his desires. 

The octopus was still lurking nearby and answered his call, inching one of its arms over the ship behind Riko. 

"Fine," Neil said, cringing as the rain started. What he wouldn't give to feel live, healthy water against his skin again. "Let them go and I'll do whatever you want." 

"Don't be an idiot," Aaron spat through chattering teeth. 

Riko chuckled. "You think I'm stupid?" he asked, stepping towards the twins. It was then the other ship got close enough to be easily spotted and Riko snarled. He lunged for Aaron, but Andrew pushed him overboard before Riko could get a hold of him. 

Neil threw his arm out, a geyser of sand erupting to catch Aaron and slow his fall to the island.

The octopus gave up stealth and slammed its arm down across the deck.

Riko stumbled and caught himself against the railing. Andrew nearly toppled over. They both righted themselves, clutching the railing as another of the octopus’ arms wrapped around the ship and pulled. 

The ship groaned beneath the pressure, wood splintering as it began to split and rock back to sink under the water.

Behind them, the other ship bounced on wild waves, on a collision course. 

“No!” Neil shouted. He wasn't sure which he needed to stop, the sinking or the collision. Either could kill Andrew. 

The octopus let go of the ship and it rocked violently back into the island, still intact, but sagging in the center. 

The other ship dropped anchor so quickly it lurched and spun, sending a giant wave crashing over the island. 

Neil dug his feet further into the sand against the onslaught. 

Aaron was swept up in the current and managed to latch onto Neil before he was dragged out to sea. His teeth were chattering as Neil hauled him to his feet, and the chill rain wouldn't offer any warmth. 

"Okay?" Neil asked. 

"Get Andrew." Aaron sank to his knees as the wave receded, hunching over himself in a vain attempt to block the rain. 

Neil looked up to see Riko had gotten hold of Andrew and had the gun to his head. His heart skipped and he couldn't help the pained sound that escaped his throat. 

"Let him go, Riko!" Kevin shouted above the rain. He stood on the railing of _ The Queen _ , holding onto the rigging with one hand and a satchel clutched in the other. 

"Fuck you, traitor," Riko snarled. He backed up so he could have both Kevin and Neil in his line of sight, dragging Andrew with him. 

Neil stepped towards the ships, grinding his teeth. That satchel had the rest of what he needed, and the driving need to heal the waters warred violently with the desire to save Andrew. 

Sickly green lightning split the sky, and the thunder that followed was deafening. The rain that fell turned blackish on his skin and burned like acid. 

There was no time left. 

"It's me you want!" Neil yelled, flinching as the wind whipped rain into his face. 

Riko sneered before it turned into a crazed smile. "You're right."

Andrew slammed his head back into Riko's chin, twisting his hand and jamming a knife into Riko's thigh. 

Riko screamed in pain and the gun went off with a crack like thunder. 

They both fell overboard on the far side. 

Neil raced forward, heart in his throat. 

Andrew wasn't dead. He wasn't. 

"Kevin!" he shouted. "Dump it all!" He ran between the ships and dove into the water. 

The taste of blood was thick. Already the sharks were circling closer, but they held back when Neil shifted into his full aquatic form. 

The waters were choppy and already turning black from the rain. The red tinge didn't help visibility either, but it didn't smell like Andrew's blood. 

Most of it. 

He followed the thin trail that did, finding Andrew fighting the current and swimming down rather than up. He shifted back to his webbed human form, offering a silent apology as he grabbed Andrew and dragged him to the surface. 

Behind them, he felt the contents of the satchel dropping into the water. Liquid silver, sage, and others that were impossible to find anywhere on dry land. All with inherent healing properties. 

Andrew gasped when his head broke the surface, coughing up blackened water with a grimace. 

"That was stupid," Neil offered in greeting. He gripped the back of Andrew's shirt and pulled him towards Kevin's ship. 

Andrew coughed up more water. "Where's Riko?" 

"Bleeding out." Neil glanced around, but there was too much blood churning in the water to find its source. The sharks were circling closer, and if they found Riko at this point, Neil wouldn't be able to stop them even if he wanted to. 

He reached Kevin's ship and the rope they'd tossed down, winding it around Andrew. Kevin would get Andrew and his brother help. Neil would start healing the waters. And if they were lucky, they'd meet again under better circumstances. 

Andrew gripped Neil's chin, turning his face back and forth. 

Neil blinked at him, but he couldn't ignore the dead and dying waters around them any longer. If the rain spread further, there'd be no stopping it. "Andrew-" 

"Don't die." Andrew leaned closer and crushed their lips together. 

Neil shivered and clutched the front of Andrew's shirt, flinching as another crack of thunder deafened him. It wasn't until Andrew jerked away and he felt a strange pain in his shoulder that he realised it wasn't thunder. 

He looked down and saw his own blood gushing out of a hole in his shoulder. The water around him reacted immediately as it mixed with everything else. His blood glowed silver and sea green, spreading and cutting through the black like a shark through a school of fish. 

Andrew was yelling something, but his words and voice were distorted. 

There was a frenzied commotion nearby as the sharks found their prey 

As Neil sank beneath the waves, he could only think it was a good thing he wouldn't have to worry about finding something sharp to cut himself with. 

________

  
  


Andrew didn't remember much after Neil sank beneath the waves. He'd tried to untie himself before he was pulled onto the ship, but his fingers had refused to cooperate. He did remember punching Kevin, before his traitorous body gave out on him and he blacked out. 

He woke up in a small clinic overlooking the ocean. Aaron was in a bed next to him, pale and bruised and hooked up to too many machines. 

Andrew sat up, pulling his IV out and ignoring the way his skin crawled to find himself in a hospital gown instead of his own clothes. His head throbbed, but not nearly as bad as before. 

He found his clothes on the bedside table. Washed and neatly folded, his armbands on top. There was even a fresh pack of smokes since his own had surely gotten waterlogged. 

He'd just finished getting his boots on when the door opened. He didn't give the doctor a chance to speak and focused on Kevin behind him. "Where is he?" 

"At the docks." 

"How long?" he asked, already pushing past the doctor who was too stupid to get out of his way. 

Kevin sighed and handed over a paper bag. "Only two days." 

"Aaron?" 

Kevin hesitated, glancing at the doctor before looking back at Andrew. "Stable. We nearly lost him just getting him here, but he should pull through." 

Andrew nodded and took the bag before heading out. He found the exit and paused to breathe in the fresh air. It smelled… clean. 

He followed the path to the docks and looked through the bag. He ignored the bottle of orange juice and pulled out the chocolate milk instead. He drained it and devoured a pack of chips and a candy bar before he reached the docks. 

Neil was lying across the end of it, wearing an oversized pair of sweats and baggy shirt. His eyes were closed, but he turned his head towards Andrew when he sat. 

Andrew looked Neil over in silence. His skin wasn't so pale and sickly anymore, and he looked more human than not now. His cheeks were red as if healing from burns. The shirt had a faint red stain in the shoulder where the bullet hit. 

His arm dangled over the edge, a trickle of blood dripping steadily into the water. There was a strange brown and green paste smeared over his arm beneath the red trail, and when Andrew leaned over, he saw Neil's blood turning silver as it hit the water, before fading to a healthy sea green. 

He sat back and opened the orange juice before holding it out to Neil. 

Neil took a breath like he was sniffing the air and opened his eyes. He pushed up onto his elbows and opened his mouth. 

Andrew raised an eyebrow, but he pressed the bottle to Neil's lips. "How long do you have to do this?" he asked, glancing at Neil's arm. 

"I don't know." Neil finished off the juice and licked his lips. "It'd be faster if I traveled." 

"Good way to die."

Neil shrugged. "You could come with me." 

"To the bottom of the ocean?" 

Neil tilted his head. "That's a good way for _ you _ to die." 

"So I'm told." He glanced towards the clinic, idly wondering if he shouldn't leave with Neil before his brother recovered. 

"How is he?" Neil asked. 

"Stable," Andrew replied, setting the bag of trash aside. He pulled a cigarette out and lit it before focusing on Neil. 

Neil shifted onto one elbow, swiping his thumb along the blood and rinsing it off in the water before sitting up. He scooted closer to Andrew, crossing his legs so his thigh was pressed against Andrew's. 

Andrew glanced down a moment before resting his hand above Neil's knee. He let out a slow breath and flicked his pinky in invitation. 

Neil hummed and carefully clasped Andrew's hand between both of his own, threading their fingers together. His head fell to Andrew's shoulder a moment later. 

They sat in silence while Andrew smoked, Neil's cool fingers warming only a little. 

It wasn't until he finished his cigarette that he realised how still Neil had become. If it weren't for the slow, steady breaths against his neck, he might have thought the idiot was dead. Who else would survive that kind of ordeal, only to die as soon as they were safe? 

He lifted his hand to flick the cigarette butt over the edge, but stopped himself. There was no point in saving the ocean just to dirty it up again. He tossed it into the bag instead and shifted a bit to get more comfortable. 

Neil made a soft sound of protest and curled tighter into Andrew's side. 

Andrew squeezed Neil's fingers, almost amused at how Neil quieted immediately. He reached up with his free hand, running his fingers through Neil's hair. He shivered from the gust of Neil's sigh on his neck and dropped his hand. 

It was far too peaceful to be real, but it didn't stop him from resting his cheek against Neil's hair and closing his eyes. 

The rest of the world could wait. 

_ * _

**Author's Note:**

> A MASSIVE THANK YOU TO ALL THOSE WHO CONTRIBUTED, YOU GUYS WERE AMAZING!! But...
> 
> I want to apologise for literally not posting this when it was finished in JUNE. LAST YEAR. Boo me, I know. Also, I'm sorry to @whetherbl and @sig66 who offered to beta but then got lost to time whilst I drowned in academic mayhem and general mental dysfunction. I kept putting this off because I was so upset at myself for letting down so many people, and I just wanted to say that I truly am sorry that it took SO FREAKING LONG TO POST. I know my cred is ruined and the chances of anyone wanting to sign up to another one with me organising it are slim, so I'm glad to at least have this one posted and finished off. 
> 
> Also, to anyone who read this and felt like they were having a stroke: don't worry, that's definitely a normal reaction. 
> 
> P.S. sorry jean we didn't mean to yeet you. we still love you.


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